


What Happens on Away Missions...

by Melifair



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Community: trope_bingo, Groping, Huddle-for-warmth, Implied Relationships, Language, M/M, Male Friendship, Other, Sarcasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 05:20:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melifair/pseuds/Melifair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens on an unexpectedly hostile planet...stays on the planet. Nobody really needs to know ALL the details. </p><p>Screw the ship's log.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Happens on Away Missions...

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first endeavor into writing Star Trek even though I've been a fan for over 15 years! 
> 
> It's also my first trope_bingo challenge, so I'm a little nervous!! 
> 
> AND it's the first time I've written implied m/m! 
> 
> It's a lot of firsts! :D
> 
> Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy!

Of course. 

It was bound to happen. It was always bound to happen.

Of all the potential planets, of all the galaxies in all the quadrants...of course they'd gotten themselves stranded. 

None of it was their fault either. They didn't go looking to get themselves into this mess. This sure as hell didn't start out as high risk. In fact, they'd gotten the clearance for the away mission, pending the atmospheric scans that resulted in the 'go-ahead' that landed them on this deceptively frigid planet. 

He should have known there'd be a catch.

There was nothing logical about it either. And boy, did that piss off the pointy-eared bastard. 

Not that he could blame him. 

It had been more than a little weird when they'd stepped out of the shuttle into what  
looked like a tropical paradise - brightly green and yellow - only to be hit with a bone-piercing rush of icy wind.

Bastard was lucky though. Tolerated the negative temperatures far better than himself or Jim. 

Although, Vulcans were also susceptible to cold. Maybe not as bad a humans. But they could freeze their asses off too. 

And for some reason, he suspected that Spock was just putting on face. That whole self-control thing.

It was kind of annoying sometimes. 

Like now, where they were huddled in the shuttle that wouldn't even fucking close.

By his own estimation, they were now about two and half hours past their scheduled contact with Enterprise. And he only hoped that they'd caught on, and were trying to find a way to get the three of them back, without getting another away team...or the Enterprise herself...marooned as well. 

He was a doctor. Didn't specialize in intra-orbital atmospherics. But the science-elf of the team was able to extrapolate that there was a strange, invisible, and undetectable polarizing magnetic field serving as this world's stratosphere.

It was apparently the reason why the planet thrived with such lush life, but was also so damned cold. It was also the reason why they couldn't contact the ship, couldn't leave the planet, and couldn't even close the goddamn pod.

He was still cursing the fact that this was a situation at all. It was supposed to be a simple away mission. Go in and get out. 

But no. He'd blame it on Jim. everything that went awry. 

Because Jim attracted trouble like he did women. And the man could've used a few right then. That way he wouldn't have to be so uncomfortably close. 

In his profession, he knew better than anyone, that proximity and body heat were the best defense against hypothermia. Yet, he was much more uncomfortable by the closeness than the cold. And at that point, the cold was becoming a secondary issue. There were far too many body parts touching for his liking. 

They'd been silent for a while. Spock was sitting like a statue, and he might have thought the Vulcan had actually frozen, if it weren't for the controlled way he was breathing. 

It actually lulled him into a sort of trance. One that he was abruptly startled out of - nearly jumping out of his skin - when he felt something slide and wedge itself under his ass. 

He panicked for a moment, not knowing what it was. But when the something wiggled... he realized it was a set of fingers. 

"Dammit, what the hell are you doin'?!"

"Bones, my hands are freezing."

"So you grab my ass?!"

"I'm not grabbing it," Jim retorted and rolled his eyes, "Believe me, you would know if I was grabbing it."

"I can feel your hand!"

"You're lucky your ass can still feel. Mine stopped being able to about a half hour ago. Right when it started to freeze."

He couldn't believe his own captain actually had the gall to look like a petulant child, because he sounded absolutely ridiculous.

"I'm not a heating pad!" 

"Considering the lack of actual heating pads, your posterior would serve as an adequate substitute."

Spock's calm and level voice was not the response he'd expected. He naturally thought Jim would have some sort of smart-ass come-back. Instead, he got it with an annoying dose of logic.

"Goddammit! Don't you chime in!"

Sometimes he thought the bastard did this sort of thing on purpose. 

"See, even Spock says so."

"For the love of... Sit on your own damn hands!" 

Then he mumbled under his breath, "Heating pad, my ass."

"Ironic."

"Shut up!"


End file.
